


sunshine on my shoulders

by iseekdaylight



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Incurable disease, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:42:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iseekdaylight/pseuds/iseekdaylight
Summary: Taeil's life began when he turned nineteen, when he stepped out of his house and into the summer night air.





	

It’s five minutes past nine when Taeil arrives in the restaurant, the cozy interiors putting him at ease as soon as he enters. A waiter approaches them (“Sicheng,” he reads in the name tag) with a smile and asks whether he’s dining with anyone today. He cranes his neck to get a glimpse of the restaurant on the inside and finds who he’s looking for—his friend sitting by the benches with a colorful surfer mural painted on the wall. He brightens up and points to the direction of his friend. Sicheng nods and gestures for him to come in.

Jaehyun stands up upon his arrival. He beams as he stretches out his arms and pulls Taeil for a hug. “Hyung!” he greets as he pats Taeil on the back before taking a seat. “How are you feeling?”

Taeil remembers bursting out of the gates of his home, taking in the humid night air. He remembers getting lost on his way, then remembers checking the directions Jaehyun had given him in his cell phone. He remembers stumbling on the escalator on the way to the restaurant. He grins. “I feel great!”

“I ordered ahead, if that’s okay,” Jaehyun says. “The restaurant just opened, and I wanted to try the best-sellers.”

“That’s fine.” Taeil takes a seat himself. He thanks Sicheng when the waiter arrives with a bag basket for him to stuff his bag and guitar case. He then looks around. He catches more people coming in, but barely enough to fill the restaurant. Still, the bright lights and the colorful murals are a welcome sight. “What did you order?”

“Sushi bowls!” Jaehyun looks up just as another waiter arrives, placing two bowls of raw fish and vegetables on their tables. “Dig in, hyung!”

The sushi bowl is delicious, Taeil finds out, the flavors of the sauce a wonderful blend with the raw fish and vegetables. They end up ordering seconds, and their conversation continues about summer plans. Jaehyun has this list of movies they should watch, a festival they should go to, some friends Jaehyun wants to introduce to Taeil, and many other things he wants to cram in two months. Taeil is dizzy and overwhelmed, but he’s also buzzing with excitement. He’s going to make sure this is a summer he’ll never forget.

Taeil had pushed his second empty sushi bowl away when a group of people start singing “Happy birthday!” He looks over his shoulder and yelps in surprise when Sicheng and a group of waiters approach their table, putting down a slice of cake with a lit candle on the center of it. He laughs when Jaehyun sings along, and when the rest of the customers clap as he blows out his candle.

He had just turned nineteen; he had just come of age. Being of age means being able to do things he hasn’t been able to do the years before, and he’s going to make sure he’ll make the year count.

“I have a gift for you.” Jaehyun takes out a small box wrapped in blue paper and slides it to Taeil after he has finished his birthday cake. “Happy birthday, hyung.”

Taeil tears off the wrapper and opens the box, discovering a CD of that indie band he likes. “Their newest album?” he says, unable to contain his excitement. “This is why we’re friends!”

“Of course.” Jaehyun beams as he raises his hand to get the bill. “Ready to go?”

The streets are more crowded than ever as they head out to the restaurant. Jaehyun explains it’s always like this on a Friday; everyone wants to wind down after a busy day at work or school. The jostling with people sends Taeil jumping in surprise every now and then, which is why the less crowded streets towards their destination are a welcome respite.

“No one comes here?” Taeil asks as he follows Jaehyun, who rounds a corner towards an emptier space in the park.

“Not much. Just people who want to get away from the busy world. And couples who want to make out.” Jaehyun laughs when Taeil scrunches his nose. “Come on, hyung. I know the best spot in this park.”

To Taeil’s relief, they did not run into couples making out in the dimly lit park. Jaehyun sits down on one of the benches, just by the walkway towards the fountain. Taeil makes himself comfortable before opening his guitar case and fishing out his guitar. He strums the chords and hums in approval before he looks at Jaehyun. In an ideal setting, Jaehyun would have brought out his keyboards, but it’s too bulky to bring around. Taeil doesn’t mind being the only one playing an instrument for tonight. “So, what are we singing?”

Jaehyun leans comfortably against the bench, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. He settles with a diplomatic, “It’s your birthday, hyung. You pick.”

Taeil has a feeling Jaehyun would say that, and a song instantly comes to mind. He strums the opening notes, and glances at Jaehyun to make sure they’re on the same page. When they are, Taeil straightens up in his seat and plays the rest of the song.

It’s music that keeps him sane. Ever since he picked up the guitar when he was ten years old, it has been his escape and respite. Jaehyun had moved in next door when he was fourteen, and with his skills in the piano, they just seemed to mesh, to create coherent melodies with taking care of the words. Starting today, they’ll make park performances a regular thing, whether someone watches or not. What matters more is that they’re able to sing and play like this.

While he was singing, Taeil occasionally looks around, just to see if anyone passing by somehow decides to stop and watch. He can see a figure standing by the fountain, but he can’t make out a face; it’s standing a bit farther, but by the shoulders and the build, he can assume the figure is male. Taeil cranes his neck for a closer look, but the figure disappears just as quickly as it had appeared.

Taeil shrugs to himself and continues with his music.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Jaehyun  
_ _June 19_

_10:49a.m.  
_ _Hyung!  
_ _Let’s have dinner!_

_2:14p.m.  
_ _Sure! Where?_

  _2:16p.m._  
_There’s this great Chinese restaurant across campus._  
_Their dim sum’s the best!_  
_I just have a night meeting with the student council_  
_But we should be done by 9_  
_Why don’t you drop by uni?  
__You haven’t been there before, right?_

 _2:21p.m.  
_ _Sure. Give me the directions. See you!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun’s university has a sprawling campus that Taeil thinks he can get lost in there for days. Nevertheless, his friend’s instructions on how to get to the student center—the building where all club rooms are located—are a lifesaver, and Taeil is within the vicinity a little before nine. The lights are dim, and the red brick road quiet, but he’s sure that this campus looks breathtaking during the day, where it is alive with activity. Taeil checks Jaehyun’s instructions and finds the bookstore below the student center, and he heads to what looks like a back door towards the club rooms.

As he walks in the empty hallways, he hears the squeaking of shoes against the floor. Taeil tries to ignore it, instead checking his phone again just to make sure he got Jaehyun’s instructions right. It should be in Room 125, and he looks up at the door labels and presses ahead.

By then, the squeaking of shoes gets louder and louder until Taeil stops next to Room 128 to find the culprit. In front of him is a guy, earbuds on each ear, head covered with his hoodie, eyes open yet unable to notice Taeil as he moves to whatever music is playing in his phone. Taeil is tempted to interrupt so he can pass by, but he stands there transfixed, unable to move as he watches. He is reminded of the dancers he had seen on reality television, but that itself is a bad comparison because the way the guy moves is way, way different—it’s like he’s giving it more than his all. Taeil wishes he has the strength to unlock his phone and take a video.

The guy stops moving, which means the song must have probably ended. He puts down his hoodie, revealing more of his face. Perhaps doll-like would be the best way Taeil can describe his appearance. The guy looks up at the ceiling and smiles, shoulders relaxing as if a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.

Suddenly, Taeil’s phone beeps, and he drops it in surprise. He scrambles for it on the ground, making sure his phone didn’t fall apart upon impact. Fortunately, it didn’t. He stands up and checks his notifications to find a message from Jaehyun, who said the meeting is over and he’s packing his stuff.

When he regains his bearings, the dancer has disappeared.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeil meets the dancer again five days later. He and Jaehyun are in the cinemas getting ready to watch a movie, and they spend the first ten minutes arguing about which movie to watch, then another good five minutes debating on what snacks they should buy. Suddenly, someone calls Jaehyun’s name, and Jaehyun brightens up in recognition when he sees four guys approaching him.

He recognizes those doll-like features, and his eyes widen. The dancer’s eyes widen as well when they meet gazes.

“You guys watching this movie, too?” Jaehyun asks, completely oblivious to Taeil’s staring contest with the other guy.

“Yup,” the shortest in the group says. “Glad to see you unwinding in the summer for once, Jaehyun.”

“Ha, I don’t work all the time,” Jaehyun says with a roll of his eyes. He then places a hand on Taeil’s shoulder. “Where are my manners? Guys, meet my best friend, Taeil hyung. Hyung, these are my classmates—Yuta, Ten, Hansol, and Taeyong. All four of them are in the dance club.”

Taeil smiles at the four in greeting, then looks back at Taeyong. Then it all clicks. “Dance club?” he says. “I think I saw you dancing last week? In the student center?”

Yuta, Ten, and Hansol slowly look at Taeyong, who looks like he had been slapped in the face. His expression is quick to change into a more neutral one, shrugging and sipping his soda. “I think you saw the wrong person,” he says.

Taeil blinks. There’s no mistaking that Taeyong is wearing the same hoodie from before, and there’s no mistaking that’s the same figure, the same face he saw that night in the student center. But if Taeyong doesn’t want to admit it, then there must be some reason, a reason that he probably won’t find out. So he plays along. “You’re right,” he says sheepishly. “It was dim. It was probably someone else.”

“The student center is an old building. You probably saw something else,” Yuta remarks with a snicker, causing Ten to shove him in the arm. “By the way, Ten here? Scaredy-cat.”

“Shut up!” Ten says shrilly, ready to lunge for Yuta if not for Hansol stopping him in time.

“Hold on. I gotta go to the bathroom.” Taeyong waves a hand and walks off before any of them can answer.

By that time Taeyong has disappeared, Taeil can feel the three newcomers staring at him. “What?” he asks, blinking. “Did I say something wrong?”

“It’s not that,” Hansol says. “Taeyong’s in the dance club, but he hasn’t exactly done any dancing.”

“Which is kind of why we kind of stared at him like he had grown horns,” Yuta chimes in. “He’s most active in the documentation department.”

“But why isn’t he dancing anymore?” Jaehyun asks with a frown. “I heard he’s the dancing machine in his high school.”

Ten clears his throat, and they all fall silent as Taeyong approaches them. He cocks his head to the direction of the theater entrance. “Shall we?”

Taeil follows Jaehyun and the others inside, but he continues to gaze at Taeyong. He’s very sure he saw the guy dance last week, but why did Taeyong deny it? There’s obviously more to the story than meets the eye. The thoughts are pushed to the back of his mind as he’s surrounded by the darkness of the theater. He has a movie to enjoy with Jaehyun and his newfound friends.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The park is unusually packed with people when Taeil arrives. This time, he’s alone; Jaehyun went with his parents out of town for a trip, but that doesn’t mean Taeil isn’t going to continue their usual park performances. He sits comfortably on their usual bench and takes out his guitar, doing his usual strumming of the chords before proceeding to play.

He has barely started on the first few notes when he hears the shutter of the camera. Taeil’s fingers freeze on the chords, and he looks up to look for the source of the sound. He finds it—there’s someone who is pointing a camera at him, but what’s curious is that he had seen that hoodie before. “Taeyong?” he says.

The photographer puts down his camera, and Taeil’s suspicions are confirmed. He smiles sheepishly at his direction. “What gave it away?” the younger one asks.

“The hoodie. But I had to make sure. I don’t wanna mistake you for someone else again.” Taeil frowns when Taeyong throws his head back in laughter. “Why did you lie?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I live a secret life.” Taeyong laughs again when Taeil scoffs. “Maybe I’ll tell you someday. Maybe not.”

Taeil _is_ curious as to why Taeyong did not admit he was the dancer in the student center, but he figures it’s none of his business. “Up to you,” he says with a shrug, as he returns to strum his chords once more.

“You don’t mind if I take pictures of you, right?” Taeyong asks, patting his camera.

“What for?” Taeil asks.

Taeyong chuckles. “Because I like photography, and I like taking pictures of random things and people?” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

He sighs. “Fine.” He strums the chords again, and this time, he starts to sing. It’s not difficult to choose a song, especially when he has years’ worth of lyrics stored in the mountains of notebooks in his room. It’s nice to be able to perform them out in the open when before, his parents and Jaehyun and his parents were his only audience. Even if no one is watching, Taeil is glad to be able to sing and play like this.

Taeil doesn’t realize that an audience has formed until he hears applause. Taeil blinks and notices a small crowd in front of him—some couples, others who look like they are about to head home from work, others probably random passersby. He can’t resist smiling and making a small bow. Someone requests for more songs, and he complies.

“You have an amazing voice,” Taeyong says once the crowd has dispersed.

Taeil smiles as he stuffs his guitar back in its case. “Thanks,” he says. “Got any good pictures of me?”

Taeyong navigates to the gallery of his camera. “Take your pick,” he offers as he scrolls to frames and frames of Taeil playing the guitar. “Pick your next Facebook profile pic, hyung.”

Taeil finds it strange to be looking at so many photos of himself. Fortunately, he doesn’t have a Facebook account, and he doesn’t have to agonize over petty things like new profile pictures. He’s about to compliment on Taeyong’s shots when he hears someone clearing their throat. He looks over his shoulder to find a woman in a pantsuit. She has a black envelope tucked under one arm while her free hand is holding out a business card. “Good evening. May I speak to you for a moment?”

Taeil blinks, but he nods and steps forward.

“My name is Kwon Yuri. I work for SM Entertainment,” she says as she hands him the business card. “I watched your performance, and I must say I’m impressed. How would you like me to bring you to the agency tomorrow so we can discuss how we can further hone your talents?”

Taeil hears Taeyong swear in a low voice as he looks at the card. It’s genuine, no doubt about it. One of the biggest talent agencies in the country wants to meet with him. It had been the subject of Taeil’s dreams ever since he started singing, to record an album so that many more people can hear his voice, to stand in front of hundreds of people.

But …

He looks at Yuri and smiles, hoping it doesn’t come off as a grimace. “Thank you for considering me. Unfortunately, I have to decline the offer.”

There’s no denying the surprises that crosses the woman’s face. “This is the first time I’ve heard someone decline an offer,” she remarks. “Did another agency get you already?”

“No, that’s not it.” Taeil shakes his head. “I’m contented with performing like this. I’m not interested in becoming a professional artist. I hope you understand.”

“You certainly are one of the rare ones,” Yuri says with a chuckle. “Alright. But keep the card, in case you change your mind.” She nods at them before taking her leave.

It feels like silence has gone on for an eternity before Taeyong speaks up. “Why did you lie?”

Taeil feels his stomach flip as his gaze turns to Taeyong. “What makes you think I lied?” he asks.

“I felt your excitement when she handed you her business card. Or maybe I was reading too much into things.” Taeyong shrugs. “Seriously, though, that was a wonderful opportunity. I can’t believe you turned it down just like that.”

Taeyong wouldn’t understand. Taeil sighs and smiles grimly. “Let’s just say … you have your secrets, and I have mine.” He slings his guitar case on his shoulder and waves at Taeyong before walking away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeil returns to his usual spot in the park, only to be greeted by tents, lights, cameras, and people he doesn’t recognize. He’s brave to approach a random person sitting by to ask what’s going on. It turns out, a major television network is shooting a drama, and shooting will take a month at most. The person said something about the drama possibly boosting the tourism of the town, but Taeil doesn’t care about that. Where is he going to play now?

“You’ve been evicted, huh?” a voice behind him says.

Taeil looks over his shoulder to find Taeyong standing behind him, camera bag slung to his shoulder. “Looks like it,” he says with a sigh. “Either I find another place to perform, or I go home.”

“You’re already outside. Why go home?” Taeyong chuckles. “Can I make a suggestion for your temporary performance spot?”

His parents and sister are probably asleep, and he has nothing to do at home but binge on chips and watch TV. And if the drama shooting won’t end until the end of the month … “I’m all ears.”

He follows Taeyong to the bus station, where they board the stop heading to Seoul. _Seoul._ Taeil had seen photos of bright lights, crowded streets, great food all in the country’s capital, and now, he’s going to experience it himself. He wishes Jaehyun were here with him, though Taeyong is starting to become a little more likeable.

“You’ve never been to Seoul? Ever?” Taeyong asks incredulously as Taeil opens up this tidbit of information. “You’re joking, right?”

“I wish I were.” Taeil looks out into his view from the window, and he smiles when the lights start to become more colorful and colorful. “But I haven’t. I’m the guy who used to go to work, then head back home and sleep.” He’s lying about that part, of course. Taeyong doesn’t need to know that part of him just yet.

“And what do you do for work?”

“Odd jobs every now and then.”

“Ah, freelancing.” Taeyong is about to say something else, when the bus makes a stop. He cranes his neck to see the sign outside. “We’re here, hyung,” he announces, standing up. “Let’s go.”

Taeil can’t resist letting out a gasp of surprise as he takes in his surroundings. The city has too many people, too many dazzling lights, and too loud sounds, yet Taeil is giddy as he takes in all of it. Taeyong is laughing at him, but Taeil is too excited to care. This is way too different from the town from the town he had grown up in, and he likes it. He wishes he has a few more pairs of eyes so he can see everything around him.

“Have you eaten dinner?” Taeyong asks, hands on his pockets. When Taeil shakes his head, he says, “I know a good place nearby.”

“What about the performance spot?” Taeil asks.

Taeyong chuckles. “It’s okay, hyung. The city is alive even after midnight.”

He follows Taeyong to a restaurant that Taeil could have almost mistaken for a university dining hall. The waitress greets them and ushers them to a seat by the large windows. He lets Taeyong order for him (“Their bulgogi is the best!”) as he watches the people passing by the streets outside.

True to Taeyong’s words, the bulgogi is delicious, and they eat their dinner in silence. Taeil had feared that the silence will be awkward, but it looks like Taeyong enjoys the silence as much as he does. They spend a good five minutes arguing who will pay the bill. (“I dragged you in here, so I’ll pay,” Taeyong insists. “ _Don’t_ use that ‘you’re my junior’ card. It was my birthday three days ago, too!”) Taeil yields to Taeyong, and they head out of the restaurant, full and satisfied.

Taeyong takes him to the Han River, where a considerable strip of the river is occupied by performers everywhere—some by themselves, others in pairs, others in bigger groups. They’re either singing, dancing, playing an instrument, doing a magic trick, or performing spoken poetry. Whatever they do, someone passing by stops to watch and listen.

“Have you ever performed here before?” Taeil asks, making sure his voice is loud enough because they pass by a couple of guys playing hip-hop music twice the volume he’s used to.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Taeyong says, waving a hand. “I don’t dance, remember?”

“Right.” Taeil sighs, reminding himself to let the issue go.

He follows Taeyong until they stop when they notice a group of performers had just left their spot. Taeyong gestures towards the now-empty space. “Your spot now,” he declares. “Come on, before the crowd dies down.”

Taeil gulps as he stands beside Taeyong. Some people in the crowd seem to notice him and freeze from their tracks out of curiosity. This is a brand-new crowd. He’s sure his audience in town is at least familiar and tolerable of him, but who knows what’s going to happen to him this time around? The crowd is probably harsher; they’ve seen better acts than these. Better than him, most probably.

“Hey.” He feels Taeyong’s hand on his shoulder. “Relax, hyung. You’re gonna be fine, crowd or no crowd.”

“Right.” Taeil takes a deep breath, mechanically opening his guitar case. He strums the chords before humming in approval and facing the curious crowd. He only has one song in mind, but he’s going to make it count. And Taeyong is right. Crowd or no crowd, the fact that he can sing is enough.

As he sings, the self-consciousness ebbs away, and Taeil finds himself lost in his music. He’s vaguely aware that more people start stopping by and listening, and Taeyong clapping along to the music in between taking photos. He smiles and starts to sing louder.

He didn’t realize he had his eyes closed until he opened them to the crowd breaking into applause, including Taeyong. He feels his shoulders relaxing, his cheeks hurting from smiling too widely. He can’t remember enjoying singing this much.

He sings a couple more songs until they call it a night. Taeyong drapes an arm around his shoulders as the crowd disperses. “Good job,” he says. “So where are we going for the after-party?”

“After-party?” Taeil blinks.

“We celebrate after your first Seoul mini-concert,” Taeyong explains with a grin. “Where to now, hyung?”

Taeil’s head is spinning with the things they can do in Seoul, but he has a hard time choosing what to do first. He ends up shrugging. “You know the place. You decide.”

Taeyong’s grin widens. “Got it.”

Taeyong gives him a tour of the shopping district, shows him the best places to hang out in the future, places that he promises to tour Taeil when it opens. Taeil’s very sure he’ll never get to get in—the places open in the morning and close before sunset—but he doesn’t tell that to Taeyong. Maybe he’ll tell him eventually, but not now. He likes this, the world opening up to him bit by bit.

They end up back in the Han River, where it’s just them and a few more people now. Taeil realizes how much he likes the quiet more, after being subject to hours of walking around and running into crowds and crowds of people. He sighs in contentment as he leans against the railings, marveling at how the small ripples of the river relax him.

“My favorite part, too,” Taeyong says beside him. “Even if I like the energy of the city, I like it when I’m by myself and my thoughts.”

“What do you think about?” Taeil asks.

Taeil could have sworn he saw a flicker of something in Taeyong’s eyes, but it was quick to disappear. “Have you ever wanted to turn back time and fix the things you fucked up?” he asks.

Taeil’s life the past nineteen years hasn’t given him enough room to make errors—huge ones, at least. He wants to ask Taeyong why, but he figures there are some things he shouldn’t pry, especially to one who he had only hung out with for the night. He gazes back to the river. “No,” he admits. “But I wish I can take into my own hands some things that are out of my control.”

Taeyong doesn’t pry into that answer, either, and they continue to look at the view before them. He then checks his watch. “Do you know what I like about this place?” he asks.

“What?” Taeil asks.

Taeyong points to the horizon. “This is the best place to watch the sun rise.”

 _Sunrise …_ Taeil processes this information, and suddenly he feels like he’s doused with cold water. He looks at his watch—the time is 4:37, and the sunrise is at 5:16. Shit. “I have to get home,” he announces, his voice shaking.

“What?” Taeyong scoffs. “You’re an adult, and you still have curfew?”

Taeil wants to yell at Taeyong for making light a situation like this, but he has no time for that now. “Where’s the nearest bus station?” he asks, a little harsher than he would have liked.

Taeyong’s expression turns more serious; he must have gotten the gist. “Okay, okay, you need to get home,” he says. “There’s one nearby. Come on.”

The bus ride feels like an eternity. Taeil can’t sit still, checking his watch every now and then, hoping that the driver can pick up speed. Taeyong seems to be strangely calm, though he keeps glancing at Taeil every now and then, as if making sure he’s okay. He’s not going to make it in time; barely, probably, but every minute counts.

“What’s wrong, hyung?” Taeyong asks as he places his hand on top of Taeil’s. Taeyong’s hand is warm on his, but Taeil is panicking too much to think into it.

He sprints as fast as he can as soon as the bus doors open. He can hear Taeyong calling his name, but there’s no time to look back. He has five minutes till the sun rises; it’s not much time, but he can still make it.

_I’m sorry, Taeyong._

Taeil runs the fastest he has run his entire life. His legs feel like they’re about to give way, and he wants to stop and take a rest, but he can’t. Soon, he rounds the familiar route to his house, the rest of the neighborhood still asleep. He checks his watch 5:15—one minute left—

He feels the rays of the sun on his back and on his hands as he throws the gates of his house open. His vision starts to blur as he grabs the doorknob and pulls the door open—

A rush of relief hits him when he slams the door closed. His legs finally give way, and he sinks down on the floor of the entranceway as he tries to catch his breath. Soon, his heavy breaths turn into sobs, and he feels his heart sinking as he remembers the best night he had in the summer, one he can never possibly have again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A few hours later, he’s in the back of his family car on the way to the hospital. The tall, imposing buildings and the plain, white walls, not to mention the smell of medicine, make Taeil sick to his stomach. He and his parents have done their best to avoid going to the hospital as much as possible—except for his annual check-up—but right now, with the blisters in his hands and on his back, Taeil has no choice.

The doctor wastes no time in looking at his blisters and asking questions. Taeil doesn’t look his parents in the eye when he says he had lost track of time. Fortunately, the doctor says the blisters are just minor and it will disappear with some antibiotics. “Make sure you keep track of time the next time you go out,” the doctor tells him with a smile as he hands Taeil his prescription.

His parents do not bring up the incident on the ride home. Taeil figures his parents are already aware of how he felt bad about this whole thing and how he’ll never forget about the time ever again. His mother asks if he wants anything to eat, but Taeil isn’t hungry. He doesn’t want to do anything right now but head up to his room.

He plops on his bed, and raises his right hand. The blisters are like tiny little islands on a map that is the back of his hand. He had only been exposed to the sun for a few seconds, and it already gave way to his. If he had stayed outside a few seconds more … he shakes his head. He doesn’t want to think what will happen to him.

Taeil sighs and reaches for his guitar, only to realize the case is not in its usual place. _That’s right,_ he thinks, remembering. _I left it with Taeyong in the bus._ He’s most likely not going to see Taeyong again; he’s probably mad at him for being ditched without an explanation. Taeil doesn’t blame him.

It’s probably the best to stay hidden. If Taeil tells everyone else, they may never understand. They may run away, in fact. And if they do say they’ll still be friends with him, it’s just … too impossible in the long run.

_You’re stupid, Moon Taeil. You get your first taste of freedom on your birthday, and you expect you’ll live a normal life. That’ll never happen. You are not normal, and you never will be._

Tears start to prickle his eyes again. Taeil turns over and buries his face in his pillow, trying not to think of dazzling lights and quiet moments in the Han River.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You look terrible.”

Taeil looks to the direction of his bedroom door and finds Jaehyun heading inside, bringing with him two plastic bags. He squints to get a better view of the logo in the plastic bags, and asks, “Soy garlic chicken?” It’s embarrassing how his voice cracks, but Jaehyun had already seen him at his worst.

Jaehyun grins. “Your favorite,” he says, setting the bags down on the nearby table. “Your parents said you haven’t left your room in five days because you’ve been sulking, and you haven’t been returning my calls. What’s up?”

He has to tell Jaehyun. Of course, they haven’t been best friends for six years for nothing. He sighs and gets off his bed. “Get the chicken out, and I’ll tell you everything.”

He tries not to cry when he tells Jaehyun of the night he spent at Seoul with Taeyong. He tells him of this whole world he has yet to discover, the nice people he has met, the energy of the music strip and the quietness of the Han River in the early morning. “I forgot I had to go home,” he says, taking another piece of chicken as he finishes his story. “I ditched Taeyong in the bus, and I rushed home. I barely made it.” He shows the back of his hand for emphasis.

“And you don’t wanna go out anymore?” Jaehyun asks with a frown.

“What’s the point? Even if I do go out, meet new people, sing in front of the crowd, what’s the difference? I’m still me. And if they find out about me, they’ll just run away and stay away from me.”

“You don’t know that,” Jaehyun says. “Taeyong is a nice guy. So are Hansol, Yuta, and Ten. They’ll understand.”

“Maybe they won’t.”

“If they don’t, then that means they’re not your friends to begin with,” Jaehyun points out. “And who cares if you have one new friend or no new friend at all? That’s who you are, and nothing is going to change that. I’ve seen how happy you’ve been these past few months, hyung. Nothing should stop you from doing what you like. And if things don’t go the way you want, at least you tried.”

Taeil sniffs and rubs his eyes with his sleeves. He hates Jaehyun’s knack of making speeches that make him cry. “I don’t think Taeyong will still want to hang out with me after I ditched him,” he says, his voice cracking.

“You never know until you try talking to him. Besides, he still has your guitar.”

Taeil sighs. He wasn’t able to get Taeyong’s number, which leaves him in the dark as to how to meet the younger one. Unless … “Hey, Jaehyun?” he says.

“Yeah?”

“In case you run into Taeyong in school, can you tell him I’m in the usual spot in the park?” He might be waiting for nothing, but he might as well try.

Jaehyun smiles and pats his hand. “Sure.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Jaehyun  
_ _July 14_  

_11:07a.m._  
_Finally ran into Taeyong!_  
_He said he’ll be there tonight.  
_ _He asked me what’s up, but I thought you should be the one to tell him._

 

_2:09p.m.  
_ _Thanks.  
_ _I’ll be there._

_2:10p.m.  
_ _Good luck!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyong is already sitting on the bench when Taeil arrives, tinkering with his phone; beside him is the guitar case. His heart pounds loudly against his chest as he approaches before he gets the irresistible urge to run away. He takes a deep breath and remembers what Jaehyun had told him. He has to try. “H-Hi,” he stammers in greeting as he stops in front of Taeyong.

Taeyong looks up, and his eyes widen. “H-Hyung,” he stammers, stuffing his phone in his pocket before straightening in his seat. “Um … you forgot your guitar …” He gestures towards the case. “I chased after you, but I lost you midway.”

“Yeah, um, thanks …” Taeil is about to reach for his guitar, but he stops himself. No, he should get this over with. “Do you mind if I sit down? I … owe you an explanation.”

Taeyong shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”

Taeil takes a seat beside Taeyong, their arms almost brushing. Across them, a group of friends pass by, laughing about something he can’t make out. When it’s just the two of them again, he takes a deep breath and begins. _Here goes nothing._ “I have xeroderma pigmentosum.”

Taeyong looks at him in confusion. “What?”

Taeil had made this talk for only two times in his life—one was when he was explaining it to a twelve-year-old Jaehyun, who couldn’t figure out why their neighbor couldn’t come out and play during the day; and another was in the municipality, where his parents had to ask permission for him to stay out beyond curfew even when he was a minor (he was denied). Yet, it still wasn’t easy to talk about it. But he has to make Taeyong understand why he ran away.

“Xeroderma pigmentosum,” Taeil repeats. “It’s a disease. It means my body doesn’t have enough ability to repair damage caused by UV lights, especially the sun’s. This means I’m supposed to stay away from the sun.”

“That’s why you ran away,” Taeyong says as he nods, eyes widening. “What happens if you get exposed to the sun?”

“I got blisters in my hand and on my back when I got home that day.” Taeil shows Taeyong the back of his hands; the blisters are small now, but still visible. “But if I didn’t make it in time … it would have been worse. The doctors said I could get skin cancer. I could die if I had stayed out longer.”

He sees Taeyong visibly gulp. “But … you can be cured, right?”

Taeil shakes his head. It’s a question his mother keeps asking his doctor every chance she can get. The answer is always the same—because there are so few of them with the disease, no cure has been discovered. “They said people with XP live up to twenty years,” he adds. “I’m nineteen now, so I’m one year away from finding out.”

“That explains why I only see you at nighttime,” Taeyong says, leaning against the bench. “And why you’ve never been to the city. I wish I knew before, but I know that isn’t an easy thing to say. Thanks for telling me.”

“I’m sorry I ran away,” Taeil says. “I had a great time, though. I haven’t had that much fun for a long time.”

“Me, too.” Taeyong smiles at him. “And I want to hang out more with you, hyung.”

Taeil’s shoulders relax, and his cheeks hurt from smiling too widely. “Me, too.”

Everything is going to be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Summer has become a lot busier, now that Taeil is hanging out with not just Jaehyun, but also Taeyong. By default, Hansol, Yuta, and Ten hang out with them, too. After summer classes and club meetings and rehearsals, he’d come over and they’ll hang out; since it’s the summer, they have plenty of time to do whatever they want. They’d hang watch a movie, go to an arcade, go drinking and karaoke.

Somehow, it’s the visits to Seoul that Taeil enjoys the most. They’d often go there as a group, him and Jaehyun, or him and Taeyong. They’ve explored all there is to explore—Taeil’s favorite is still the N Seoul Tower, where he can see the entire city. They always end up in the music strip, where Taeil will sing to an enthusiastic crowd, or Hansol, Yuta, and Ten would bust a beat. Sometimes he can feel Taeyong is itching to join in, but he would hold back and take photos instead.

“Are you sure you never dreamed of recording an album or having your own concert?” Taeyong asks, when it’s just the two of them, looking out into the river. They’re now more aware of the time; Taeyong had set an alarm, just to make sure.

Taeil would have never given him a straight answer before, but Taeyong knows his secret now. “I’ve dreamed of it,” he admits. “Ever since I started singing, I always wanted to be like Jo Sungmo. Mom bought a DVD of his concert, and I wanted to experience that, too—the sea of lights, the cheers, everything.”

“But?”

“The disease happened, of course.” Taeil smiles grimly. “I’ve accepted that I’ll just be that random guy who sings and plays the guitar in the streets.”

“That’s something,” Taeyong points out. “That random person passing by the street could be tired after a long day at work, and he’d hear your song, and he’d feel better already.”

Taeil laughs. “Why do you always have the right words to say to make me feel better?” he asks.

“It’s part of my charm,” Taeyong says with a wink, and they both share a laugh.

He’s not going to be South Korea’s next big star. Heck, he’ll probably never step foot on a huge stage and sing his heart out. But Taeil thinks of the people in the audience, either in the park or in the city, and wonders if he was able to make them feel better. Taeil smiles, and thinks that’s enough for him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Jaehyun  
_ _July 24_

_1:28p.m._  
_Hyung!!_  
_Are you awake??_  
_Someone videoed your street performance last night and!  
_ _Everyone in the Internet’s talking about you!  
_ _Call me when you get this!!_

_Taeyong  
_ _July 24_

_1:29p.m.  
_ _Congrats, hyung!  
_ _You’re famous!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeil has woken up to his phone buzzing with tons of notifications. He had never been bothered like this before, except maybe that one time when Jaehyun was agonizing over this girl. He groans and reaches for the darned gadget, eyes widening when he sees the number of messages.

He decides to open Jaehyun’s message first, and …

“Holy shit.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun had sent him the YouTube link, a video uploaded by someone whose username is a random string of letters and numbers. It’s weird to see himself on video, sure enough on the Seoul music strip last night. He was singing one of the earlier songs he had written, and a considerably larger crowd has formed; Taeil recognizes some of them from his earlier performances. It’s that one challenging song where he hits higher notes, causing the crowd to applaud louder mid-song.

It’s even weirder, and surreal, to read the comments. Someone commented, “Jfc this guy can sing better than those idols!” Another one commented, “Daaamnnnn I am looking for this guy in the music strip next time!” Someone mentioned his usual spot in the park, suggesting whoever’s watching the video to come by at nighttime.

Taeil had been sitting in his bed this whole time, and yet he feels dizzy. With shaking hands, he manages to type out a reply to Jaehyun and Taeyong. _“Can you guys drop by? I can’t process this.”_

Jaehyun and Taeyong arrive an hour later. Taeil stares at the huge plastic bag Jaehyun is holding. “You’re now a huge YouTube star, so I thought we should celebrate with bibimbap,” he explains with a grin.

Taeil rolls his eyes, but he lets the two in anyway. Besides, he’ll never say no to free food.

“Congrats, hyung, everyone is talking about you,” Taeyong says as he makes himself comfortable on the chair by the desk.

“Is that a good thing, or …?”

“It’s a good thing, of course!” Taeyong gratefully accepts the plastic bowl Jaehyun has handed to him. “Everyone thinks you have the potential to become the next big thing. That SM agent was right when she said she wanted to recruit you.”

“I told you, I can’t,” Taeil says meekly. “Not when I’m not allowed to go out when the sun is up.”

“You don’t have to,” Jaehyun says. He had brightened up, which meant he had just had a lightbulb moment. “The Internet is your friend, hyung. You can post performances online and you can still be famous.”

Taeil knows how it works, of course. He shoots himself performing a song, then hopes he gets viewed enough to have more videos uploaded in the future. Lucky ones get scouted and get a contract without going through the rigorous audition process. Unlucky ones tend to fade away, channels inactive.

Taeyong seems to have read his mind. “Give it a shot, hyung,” he says. “Just put yourself out there. You’ll never know until you try.”

“And you already have admirers, so at least we’re sure you won’t be ignored,” Jaehyun points out. “Don’t worry, hyung, we’ll help you.”

“Yeah!” Taeyong chimes in. “We can be your managers.”

Taeil laughs; somehow the sight of Jaehyun and Taeyong fussing over him is an amusing sight. But Taeyong is right; it’s not like he has anything to lose if he gives it a try. Not that he’s expecting to be famous. He just wants people to listen to his songs. He looks at his two friends and nods.

“Alright. Let’s give it a shot.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They plan for Taeil to “debut” his channel in two weeks, and Jaehyun and Taeyong waste no time brainstorming. He had no idea much planning has to be put into setting up a channel—how often he should post videos, should they film him in the streets or in his room or a mix of both, should he make other social media accounts, what color scheme he should have for the promo designs. Taeil’s head is swimming with all the information, that he gives up and lets Jaehyun and Taeyong over these kinds of things, as long as he’s in charge of what songs to sing.

Eventually, his two friends agree on a plan. They have a god-knows-how-many-pages-long proposal for it, too. His full name is to be on the channel, no fancy or mysterious usernames involved. His “debut” video should be a performance in his room, a repeat of the song he sang on that famous video. Then he’ll post a video at least once a week, Jaehyun will handle all social media accounts, Taeyong will handle all promo materials—photos, designs, editing, whatnot.

Taeil sets down the plan as soon as he finishes reading it. Jaehyun and Taeyong look at him expectantly. “Well?” Jaehyun asks.

He smiles—beams, more like it. “Let’s get to work.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Are you sure this is necessary?”

“I’m positive.” Taeyong grins at him before setting up the zoom lens on his camera. “I hate to say this, but first impressions matter.”

Taeil frowns; he doesn’t understand the logic. That, and he’s uncomfortable on the stool he’s sitting on while he waits for Taeyong’s signal. It would be much better if he has something to lean against. “So you’re saying even if I have a great voice, people might put a pass on me because I don’t look good?”

Taeyong finishes setting up his camera, but runs to adjust the reflector on Taeil’s left. “I know it’s unfair, but that’s how it works,” he says. “And you’re already handsome, hyung. We just have to make you look better in pictures.”

Taeil feels the air around him grow warm, his stomach doing back flips. He had always thought of himself as ordinary-looking; it’s weird to be hearing compliments like that. Which was why he was initially reluctant to agree to this photo shoot for just a couple of pictures they’ll upload on his channel and on social media. But Jaehyun and Taeyong had insisted that his image is important, so …

Taeyong goes through one more round of inspecting everything in the Fine Arts Department’s photography studio—the main light, the hair light, the reflector. He then takes a step back and hovers the camera to his face, as if imagining how his shots will go. He then lowers his camera, a frown visible on his face. “Everything okay?” Taeil asks, shifting on his seat for the umpteenth time.

“Yeah, I just ...” Taeyong approaches him, holds out his hand, and smoothes out Taeil’s hair. Their faces are awfully close, and Taeil feels his stomach do more acrobatic acts that he never imagined his stomach would be able to do. Taeyong seems oblivious to his dilemma, grinning as he finally steps away. “Okay, perfect. Let’s start.”

Taeil takes a deep breath and tries to relax, trying to push away the weird sensations he’s getting. Then he realizes he doesn’t know where to begin. He looks at Taeyong for help.

Taeyong seems to understand, and he gestures to his right. “We can start with the guitar,” he says, then waits until Taeil has picked up his guitar and has sat back on the stool. “Play a couple of songs, pretend that you’re in the music strip, and not in a photo studio. It’s best when you’re natural.”

Taeil does as he’s told, and the first few shots pass by so fast that he barely even notices it until Taeyong tells him to drop the guitar. Taeyong patiently guides him and tells him what to do, makes a few bad jokes that sends Taeil laughing anyway, and the next thing he knows, they’re done.

He slings his guitar case over his shoulders and hovers over Taeyong, who is going through the gallery in his camera with a small smile on his face. “Got anything good?” he asks.

Taeyong looks at him, and Taeil’s not sure what that expression means; he had never seen that kind of look before. “It’s kinda hard to choose,” he says. “But if I have to pick a personal favorite, it has to be this.”

He zooms in at a picture of Taeil laughing, at one of Taeyong’s jokes no doubt. Personally, he thinks he has one frame in mind for the profile picture, but he likes how this has turned out. Like he doesn’t have a worry in the world. “I like that, too,” he says, smiling back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_Jaehyun  
_ _August 3_

_7:56a.m.  
_ _I didn’t feel so well last night in the photo shoot._

_7:56a.m.  
What happened??_

_7:57a.m._  
_Idk, I felt funny_  
_Like my stomach was doing these weird things  
_ _And the room felt warmer than usual  
_ _But Taeyong insisted everything was normal_

_7:59a.m.  
_ _Taeyong was with you?  
_ _Then you probably weren’t sick_

_8:00a.m.  
_ _Then what did I feel??_

_8:05a.m.  
_ _Figure it out for yourself, hyung_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun and Taeyong spend the next week finalizing designs and promotions. The two of them spend nights over in Taeil’s room—teasers first (Taeyong’s idea) where Taeil’s favorite photo actually made an appearance, then the recording of the first video, then some more editing. They all heave a sigh of relief when Taeyong presses the Upload button on the site, and when the video is ready for viewing five minutes later. Taeil still has to get used to seeing himself on video, but he likes the final output nonetheless. He’s glad Jaehyun and Taeyong talked him into doing this.

“Let’s celebrate,” Taeil announces as soon as Taeyong shuts down his laptop. It’s eight in the evening (the thing Taeil likes as the months go on is that the sun sets earlier than usual), which gives them plenty of time to grab a bite to eat and unwind.

“I’ll pass,” Jaehyun says, slinging his bag over his shoulders. “I have this whole-day student council meeting tomorrow. Have fun, though! I’ll make it up to you on Saturday.” He waves and heads out before Taeil can even stop him.

Taeil looks at Taeyong sheepishly. “We can always celebrate at another date,” he suggests. This was a team effort; he hates celebrating if one of them isn’t around.

“Nah, let’s do it.” Taeyong yawns and stretches as he stands up. “I’m still high from this whole thing, and the night is still young.” He then cocks his head to the side. “Your treat, hyung?”

It’s those stomach flips again, yet Taeil’s aware that he’ll never be able to say no, especially when Taeyong looks that endearing. He chuckles as he reaches for his wallet on his end desk. “Let’s go. Got anywhere in mind?”

They board the bus to Seoul, where Taeyong takes him to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant that serves unlimited side dishes and unlimited grilled pork. The atmosphere around them is festive as they talk about future plans, some special videos, possibly collaborations with some performers they befriended in the music strip. They skip performing in the music strip for tonight, content to walk by and watch performances instead. Some of the passersby and performers recognize Taeil, and some people ask for his photo, while other performers drag him to sing along. Taeil had never felt this adrenaline rush before, but he smiles wider, joins in, and sings louder.

He glances at Taeyong every now and then, to make sure the younger one doesn’t feel out of place. Taeyong is smiling and laughing along, and sometimes Taeil’s breath gets caught in his throat at the sight.

They wind down after midnight in a 24/7 café, the taste of potato latte rich in his tongue. Taeyong’s head leans against his shoulder, and as much as Taeil’s heart pounds faster than usual, he doesn’t push Taeyong away.

“Thanks, for everything,” Taeil blurts out. He had wanted to tell that to Jaehyun and Taeyong for a long time, but he couldn’t find the right opportunity to say it.

“You sound like you're saying goodbye or something,” Taeyong points out with a chuckle.

“I’m not,” Taeil scoffs. “I just … haven’t thanked you yet. You didn’t have to do this, but you did it anyway.”

“Anything for a good friend,” Taeyong says. A sigh follows. “I wish I could have said the same thing for Youngho.”

“Youngho?” Taeil asks. This is the first time he has ever heard that name.

Taeyong sighs again and sits up straighter. There’s a flicker in his eyes, the same flicker that Taeil had seen when they looked out into the Han River for the first time. “He’s my best friend,” he says. “ _Was_ my best friend, probably.”

“What happened?” Taeil asks, watching as Taeyong grips his coffee mug harder.

“Youngho and I have been friends for as long as I can remember,” Taeyong begins. “We were on the same dance club in middle school, and we’ve been inseparable ever since. We have this friendly rivalry where we’d kick each other’s asses on the dance floor, but we’ll always head home and play video games and share comics and talk about everything or nothing.

“When we were seniors in high school, our teacher encouraged us to apply for a dance scholarship in this big arts school. It would be cool if we both got in, but they can only offer one scholarship to our school. I wanted to get in, and Youngho wanted to get in.” Taeil watches as Taeyong’s knuckles turn white. “Long story short, the competition between us wasn’t so healthy anymore. We fought a lot and brought each other down. In the end, I got the scholarship.”

“But you didn’t take it,” Taeil assumes.

Taeyong smiles grimly. “If I were to be honest with myself, Youngho deserved the scholarship more than I did. I turned down the scholarship. Then I applied in the college in town. I only joined the dance club because Ten forced me to and the seniors saw videos of my performances in high school.”

“Is that why you don’t dance anymore?”

“In public, at least. And you were right—you saw me dancing in the student center that night.” Taeyong looks down, though there is no mistaking the pink tinge in his cheeks. “I just hate it. The thing that brought us together ended up being the thing that tore us apart. I wish I could have been supportive, but I wasn’t.”

Taeil reaches for Taeyong’s hand before he can even stop himself. “If given the chance, would you like to meet him again?” he asks.

Taeyong nods. “I wanna apologize for being a jerk,” he says. “And I wanna be friends with Youngho again.”

Taeil doesn’t know what else to say; he had never been in a position where he has to give advice to a friend. Jaehyun is the one who usually gives advice, and Taeil had never had much experience about love and life until now. Taeyong had always been there for Taeil in his weakest, and he wants to return the favor. He hates seeing Taeyong like this; it’s making his stomach do ugly twists and turns.

Taeil settles for squeezing Taeyong’s hand, and for hoping that everything will turn out well in the end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They don’t talk about Youngho in the days that follow. Taeil throws himself into composing songs; he has to buy another notebook because his old one is brimmed with new songs. He doesn’t know where those songs came from, but a smile would creep to his face and his heart would beat fast every time he thought about it.

Taeyong seems to have gotten busy and has developed this habit of being late during their YouTube channel meetings. Taeyong would always dismiss it as an extra credit thing, and while Taeil had some doubts, he didn’t pry into it. If there’s one thing he learned after being friends with Taeyong is that he’ll open up eventually.

He does find out not from Taeyong, but from Ten, who he runs into when he was helping his parents in grocery shopping. Ten has a cart full of bottled water and junk food. “It’s for practice tomorrow,” Ten explains. “The dance club will have its season-end concert.”

“That’s great!” Taeil exclaims. “When is it? I’d love to come.”

“Of course, you would.” Ten smirks. “What, with Taeyong making his comeback and all.”

Taeil blinks. “Huh?”

Ten must have realized that Taeil has no idea what he’s talking about. “Oh,” he says in a low voice. “Taeyong didn’t tell you, did he?”

“Tell me what?”

“Geez, and I thought Taeyong would be excited to tell everyone of the news.” Ten scratches the back of his head. “Anyway, but some miraculous reason, Taeyong decided he’s going to dance in the season-end concert.”

“He’s _what_?” Taeil exclaims, almost dropping the cabbage in his hands. “What happened? Not that I’m complaining, but … He’s finally dancing!”

“I know right!” Ten brightens up as he says it. “I’m not sure if you know the whole story, but I’m glad he finally stopped beating himself up.”

“He told me about Youngho,” Taeil says. He tosses the cabbage in the cart before he actually drops it for good.

Ten looks like he’s not surprised Taeyong had told him. “It’s both their fault for getting the competition way over their heads, but they’re best friends, and I think they shouldn’t let this ruin their friendship.”

“Are you still in touch with Youngho? I heard you three went to the same high school.”

“Yeah, we were a trio.” Ten smiles sheepishly. “Sometimes, whenever we would hang out, I would feel out of place, the way the two of them hang out. Youngho and I are still in touch,” he adds, before Taeil can slip that question. “He feels as bad as Taeyong does, but he doesn’t want me to tell that to Taeyong.” He shakes his head. “Idiots.”

“I hope they can sort this out.”

“Me, too.” Ten sighs and looks at his watch. “Anyway, I have to go. You’ll go to the concert, right? It’s in the end of August, and we’ll start around seven.”

If Taeil’s assumptions are correct, he’ll probably be able to get out of the house as soon as the concert starts. Hansol, Yuta, and Ten still don’t know about his disease, and he isn’t ready to tell them yet. “I have a thing at seven, but I’ll probably make it around 7:30,” he says instead.

“Your YouTube thing, huh? Wherever I go, people are always talking about how amazing you are.” Ten chuckles when Taeil turns red in the face. “Anyway, see you around, hyung!” He waves a hand and walks away with his cart in tow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyong texts him he’s in the dance studio, if he wants to drop by. He still hasn’t told Taeil that he’ll be in the season-end concert, but Taeil makes no mention of that. He thanks Taeyong for the directions to the studio, promising to bring take-out from their favorite restaurant.

It’s easy to find the dance studio the moment he heads up the stairs. There’s only one room in the floor that has its lights on, the beats of an R&B song reverberating loudly every step he takes. The glass doors give him a good view of the studio—mirrors and wall-mounted ballet barres and all. 

The music stops, and Taeil sees Taeyong clutching to the ballet barres by the side, trying to catch his breath as beads of sweat trickle down his face. A new song starts to play, and suddenly the tired figure swiftly changes into someone different, starting to move as if life depended on it. Taeil stands right outside the door, frozen in place, as his eyes follow Taeyong’s every move, elegance and fire all into one. It’s watching art in movement. 

The song ends, and Taeyong sprawls on the floor, chest rising as he tries to catch his breath. Taeil realizes that he can finally move, and he knocks on the door before coming in. “Hey,” he says, managing a smile as he enters. 

Taeyong sits up, chest rising. “Hyung!” he exclaims. 

“I brought dinner.” Taeil holds up the paper bags. “I ordered bibimbap. Um …” He looks around. “Should we eat in the cafeteria or—” 

“Cafeteria’s closed. Here is fine.” Taeyong scoots on the floor until he’s leaning against one of the mirrors. “Let’s eat, hyung,” he says, patting the space beside him. 

They eat in silence, occasionally punctuated by Taeyong humming in approval every time he takes a bite. Taeil would have laughed, if he wasn’t suddenly so nervous. He shouldn’t be; he and Taeyong have always had moments when it’s just the two of them, so this shouldn’t be different, right? 

Taeyong glances at him with a smile, rice on the corner of his lips, and Taeil quickly looks back to his meal, fearing he might implode if he looks long enough. 

Taeyong blurts out the announcement when they finish their meal. “I’ve decided I’m going to join the season-end dance concert at the end of the month,” he says. 

“Yeah, Ten told me.” Taeil tries to look hurt for not being the first to know, but he ends up grinning instead. There’s a reason why he’s better at singing and playing the guitar than acting. 

Taeil looks guilty, though. “Sorry I wasn’t able to tell you,” he says. “I auditioned last week, and I wanted to wait a few days and make sure I’m really committed to this before telling you. Right now, I’m pretty sure.” He reaches for something inside his pocket and hands an envelope to Taeil, a little wrinkled. “I wasn’t able to tell you, but I _did_ get you and Jaehyun a couple of tickets. I hope you can come.” 

“I _will_ come,” Taeil promises him, nudging Taeyong on the arm. “Wouldn’t want to miss your comeback performance.” 

Taeyong chuckles. He stuffs all their trash in the plastic bag and stands up, stretching his arms in the air. “Hyung?” he says, now holding out his hand in front of Taeil. “Wanna dance?” 

Taeil blinks, panic bubbling in his stomach. “I-I don’t know how to dance,” he stammers. 

“I’ll teach you! It’s just a slow dance. It’s really simple.” Taeyong pouts. “Please?” 

Taeil is starting to hate that pout—it’s cute and it’s deadly, and he had no choice but to take Taeyong’s hand. “Fine. But don’t blame me if I step on your foot.” 

Taeyong squeezes his hand as he drags Taeil to the middle of the dance floor. His hands rest on Taeil’s hips, and Taeil feels warmth in the touch that it’s hard not to lean too close to it. “Hands on my shoulders, hyung,” Taeyong whispers. 

Taeil does as he is told. His head is spinning, and suddenly he feels weak on the knees, his heart pumping so fast he feels it’s going to burst out of his chest. What is wrong with him? He’s pretty normal, but whenever he’s around Taeyong these days … 

“Hyung.” Taeyong snaps him out of his thoughts; he’s laughing, and Taeil realizes he’d like to hear that laugh over and over. “To dance, we have to actually _move_.” 

“O-Oh!” Taeil feels his cheeks burning. “Move. Right.” 

“Just follow my lead.” Taeyong squeezes his hips reassuringly as he starts to move, slowly. Taeil looks down, making sure he doesn’t step on anyone’s foot, and soon he gets the hang of it. “See? You’re doing fine. Now, look up.” 

Taeil does, and he immediately regrets it. He only realizes now that he and Taeyong are almost the same height, though he’s probably shorter by a couple of centimeters. Their faces are close, too close, and his first instinct is to look away, but Taeyong is glancing at him with a soft expression that he can’t help but take it all in. What if he leans closer, closer— 

And suddenly, the metaphorical bullet train hits him. _Shit._

“You okay?” Taeyong asks. 

Taeil blinks, returning to reality. Taeyong is looking at him with concern, and all Taeil wants to do is to run away, bury himself in his bedsheets to try to process his realization. His hands come off Taeyong’s shoulders, and he prays that his acting skills work this time. “I’m fine,” he says. “Just … suddenly felt nauseous, that’s all.” 

“Oh.” Taeyong’s hands come off his hips, scrutinizing Taeil carefully. 

“You _do_ look kind of pale. Let’s get you home.” 

They argue about whether or not they should get a cab, with Taeyong winning. (“What if your nausea gets worse while we’re walking home?” Taeyong insists.) Taeil heaves a sigh as they get in, leaning by the window so he can look at the passing buildings … anywhere but at Taeyong. He feels he’s going to burst if he does. He wants to figure this out, and the last things he wants to do is to say and do things he’ll regret later on. 

The ride feels like an eternity, and when they arrive, Taeyong insists on paying because he’ll have the cab drive him home, too. Taeyong’s hand is warm on his when Taeil tries to reach for his wallet, and suddenly he feels too weak to argue. “Get some rest, hyung. Text me when you feel better enough to go to the city tomorrow.” Taeyong grins and waves at him before closing the cab door. 

Taeil buries himself in his bedsheets a few minutes later, stuffing his face in his pillow to muffle his screams. Yet, the thoughts in his head will haunt him the whole night, reminding him that he sees Taeyong as more than a friend. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun is of no help when Taeil opens up to him. “I knew it!” he exclaims, causing passersby to stare at them as they walk.

Taeil glares, trying to quash the irresistible urge to throw his guitar case at his best friend. “If you knew, _why didn’t you tell me_?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“What’s the point of me pointing out your feelings before you realize it?” Jaehyun laughs. “You’re an adult, hyung! Figure it out for yourself!”

Taeil doesn’t tell him how he spent the next couple of nights trashing around his bed and trying to muffle his screams. That didn’t sound adult-like. “Okay, fine, so I like Taeyong,” he says. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do next.”

“Tell him,” Jaehyun says simply, then laughs again when Taeil freezes on his tracks, jaw dropping.

“I-I can’t do that! We’re friends!”

“Romantic relationships start from friendships most of the time,” Jaehyun points out.

“And what if he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“Then you can cry about it to me, you’ll probably avoid Taeyong for a couple of days, then you’ll meet him again, you’ll be friends again, and you’ll probably laugh about it later on. Then you move on.” Jaehyun smiles, as he wraps an arm around Taeil’s shoulders. “That’s how it is, hyung.”

Taeil sighs. He hears someone calling his name, and he sees Ten and a tall guy with brown hair parted in the middle walking towards them.

“Hyung!” Ten says as the two of them near Taeil and Jaehyun’s direction. “Can I talk to you for a quick minute?”

“I’ll find a spot for you,” Jaehyun volunteers, patting Taeil on the shoulder before heading out.

Taeil takes a careful look at the stranger in front of him; he had never seen the guy before, but he has a hunch. “Is this …?”

“Youngho,” the guys says, holding out his hand. Taeil shakes it, Youngho’s grip firm. “I saw your videos. You’re an amazing singer.”

“Thanks.” Taeil grins. “I’m actually gonna be filmed with my, uh, crew tonight. I hope you have fun.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Go on ahead. I have some things to ask Taeil hyung.” Ten pushes Youngho away before the other one can even protest. When Youngho is out of earshot, Ten grins like someone who had won the lottery.

Taeil sneaks a glance at Youngho, and he raises an eyebrow. “Taeyong doesn’t know about this, does he?”

“They _both_ don’t know.” Ten smiles innocently. “You told me Taeyong wants to make up, and Youngho told me he wants to make up, so why not give the both of them this opportunity?”

Taeyong still isn’t in the crowd, Taeil figures as he checks the crowd that’s already starting to form. Knowing him, he’ll probably arrive soon. “Do you think this will work?” he asks.

Ten shrugs. “Who knows?” he says. “All I did is give them an opportunity to make up. It’ll be all up to them.”

Ten is right. It will be all up to Taeyong and Youngho. Speak of the devil, he sees Taeyong approach, and he says goodbye to Ten to head to his friend’s direction.

Taeyong looks like he had just seen a ghost when he arrives, the audience cheering in the background. “He’s here,” he whispers, his grip on Taeil’s arms tighter than usual. “ _Youngho_ is here.”

“He is?” Taeil does his best to act surprised as he glances at the crowd. He spots Youngho and Ten chatting about something. “What are you gonna do?” he asks.

Taeyong glances at the crowd as well. Youngho decides to look at their direction as well, and Taeyong promptly looks away. “I … should go talk to him.”

“You should.” Taeil nods. “But something tells me he’ll stay for the performance.”

Taeyong glances at Youngho before nodding. “Okay.” He takes out his camera, setting it so that he can record the performance. He gives a thumbs-up at Jaehyun, signaling that he’s ready to film. Jaehyun, who also has a camera out, nods and gives Taeil a thumbs-up.

Since he started uploading videos, the crowd seems to have doubled. Jaehyun had his concerns about securing permits this time around, but after poking through his connections, he found out that this crowd is just fine. But crowd or no crowd, Taeil will continue to sing.

When Taeil takes his bow, members of the crowd approach him, some with notebooks and pens in hand, others their cell phones ready. He’s overwhelmed every time, but Jaehyun is an expert in crowd control, and he manages to accommodate everyone until the crowd disappears. He glances at Taeyong every now and then, but the younger one is out of view.

When the crowd finally disperses, though, he finds Taeyong. He and Youngho are sitting by the bus stop, arms brushing against each other. He can’t make out their conversation, but Taeyong would look at Youngho’s direction, and Youngho would reply with something. He catches Taeyong looking misty-eyed, though, and Taeil hopes those are tears of relief.

“What are we gonna do now?” Ten walks up beside him, dabbing the edges of his eyes with a handkerchief.

Taeil usually waits for Taeyong whenever he has something up, but right now … “I think,” he says, “it’s best to leave them alone.”

“We can take the other bus stop,” Jaehyun volunteers. “Best not to disturb them.”

“Right.” He takes one last look at Taeyong—he’s laughing at something Youngho has said—and smiles before following Jaehyun and Ten.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As much as he wants to, Taeil tries to keep out of touch with Taeyong for the next few days. He had gotten word from Ten that the two have made up and are hanging out to make up for lost time. That, and Taeyong is busy with concert rehearsals. It doesn’t bother Taeil one bit; at least the weight on Taeyong’s shoulders have been lifted. It can only get better from hereon.

Keeping out of touch with Taeyong also gave Taeil lots of time (and space) to think about his feelings (and be an adult about it, Jaehyun adds). He’s acknowledged the fact that he likes Taeyong—he wouldn’t go into love yet, because he’s not yet sure. He’s also acknowledged that Jaehyun might be right, that he should tell Taeyong at some point. As to how, he’s not yet sure. But he knows he should, otherwise he’s going to explode.

He barely realizes it has been five days until Taeyong calls, and Taeil’s heart skips a bit when he sees the caller ID. “Hey, you,” he says, almost breathlessly, when he picks up the call. “How’s rehearsals going?”

“I’m fine. I can’t believe how much I missed it,” Taeyong chuckles. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been in touch. Youngho and I …”

“It’s okay. Ten told me about it. I’m glad you two are okay now.”

“Me, too. I wish we could have settled this before, but better late than never.” A short pause. “Hyung, you’re still watching the concert, right?”

“Of course, I am.” Taeil has already set his alarm for that day.

“Okay, great!” Taeyong seems to have sighed in relief on the other line. “Meet me backstage after the concert. I already miss you.”

Taeyong misses him? Taeil tries to be rational about it and not to read too much into it. “I miss you, too,” he says. “You owe me dinner and lots of stories after the concert.”

“I know. Anyway, I have to go. I’ll be in the dance studio the whole day. See you tomorrow?”

“Yup. See you.” Taeil clutches the phone to his chest as soon as they hang up. Tomorrow … His lips turn up to a smile. He’s going to see Lee Taeyong at his best.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The auditorium lights are already dim when Taeil arrives. He receives a few stares, plus a few murmurs, from the audience when he opens the door. He manages to find his seat, Jaehyun forgetting to acknowledge him, the younger one already too immersed with the program. Still, he manages a “Taeyong hasn’t performed yet”, so Taeil heaves a sigh of relief.

Taeil himself is immersed through the rest of the program. He cheers at the choreography and the stunts. He cheers louder when Hansol, Yuta, and Ten appear, all three of them having solo time in a group routine. Taeyong is still nowhere to be found, but there’s still an hour left in the concert, and the host promises more to come.

When Taeyong finally appears, somehow the cheers are the loudest. Taeil recognizes a familiar voice yelling “Go get ‘em, Taeyong!”, and when he looks over his shoulder, he sees Youngho up on his feet. He then glances back to the stage, where he sees a flicker of emotion in Taeyong’s eyes. It must be overwhelming to be back onstage.

When the audience falls silent, the music starts, and Taeyong moves. It’s the same routine Taeil had seen in the dance studio nights ago, but Taeyong’s feet are lighter, his movements freer. He glances at the audience, each and every one focused on the routine. Taeil knows that they had seen something special, too.

The audience leaps to their feet during the curtain call, the applause louder when Taeyong takes center stage. Taeil meets his gaze, and Taeyong gives him the widest smile he has ever seen, and Taeil’s heartbeat almost stops at the sight.

He heads backstage when the lights go on and the audience starts to leave. (Jaehyun goes on ahead because of some excuse he can’t remember now.) They run into Youngho on the way out, though Youngho says he’ll only be seeing Ten tonight. “Taeyong says he has plans,” Youngho says, when Taeil asks him why. “Not that I’m complaining, but we have lots of time to hang out now, so I’m sparing him tonight.”

“Oh.” Taeil remembers telling Taeyong the younger one owes him dinner, but Taeyong hasn’t exactly told him when.

“Taeyong talks a lot about you,” Youngho mentions.

“He does?” Taeil blinks.

“Yeah!” Youngho laughs. Taeil would have wanted an elaboration, but they reach backstage, and Youngho pushes open the door.

The dance club seems to have gotten wild backstage, flowers and food and beer cans everywhere. He spots Taeyong at the center of the room, throwing his head back in laughter at something Hansol said, before they clink beer cans. Youngho calls Taeyong’s name, and the younger one looks to their direction, expression brightening up.

“Hey!” he greets as he approaches. “How did you find the concert?”

“Dude, you totally slayed!” Youngho says, giving Taeyong a one-armed hug. “Did you do that choreography yourself?” When Taeyong nods, he chuckles. “Thought so. I remember you have that same routine from our graduation concert.”

“It was a last-minute thing, so …” Taeyong glances at Taeil, and his gaze softens. “Hey, hyung.”

“Hey,” Taeil greets, a little breathless again.

“Hey,” Youngho speaks up. “I’m gonna chill with Ten over here. See you tomorrow, okay?”

“Gotcha.” Taeyong pats Youngho on the back before the latter approaches Ten. He then looks at Taeil, his cheeks pink. “I kinda owe you dinner, but do you mind if we pass by somewhere first?”

“I don’t mind,” Taeil says, smiling at Taeyong as he leads the way out from backstage.

They walk side by side, Taeil taking in the warm, nighttime summer air. Sometimes his and Taeyong’s arm brush against each other, and Taeil can’t resist glancing at Taeyong every now and then. Sometimes Taeyong would be looking at the trees or at the red brick road, and Taeil wishes he can read the younger one’s mind.

He freezes in his tracks when Taeyong reaches for his hand. Or rather, the thumb of Taeyong’s left hand curling around the thumb of Taeil’s right hand. His stomach is doing back flips again when he looks at Taeyong, the confident air he had seen on the stage gone. His eyes are expectant, teeth sinking on his bottom lip, as if asking, “Is this okay, hyung?”

At that instant, all questions seem to have melted away. Taeil is suddenly reduced to a smiling idiot, his cheeks red as he nods. Taeyong’s smile is as equally goofy, relaxing as he lets their fingers intertwine. Taeyong’s hand is warm against his, and Taeil has a spring on his step as they trudge on.

He notices how the path has started to become brighter and brighter despite the dim lamp posts, and Taeil gasps in awe at the sight before him. The wide field before them is glowing, dangling lights on every branch on the trees around it. It’s like being transported to another world, a world with only the two of them.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Taeyong remarks, dragging him so that they’re in the middle of the field. “The school administration has an event in the other auditorium, and whenever there’s an admin event, they always turn on the lights here.”

“It kind of feels like I’m in a fairy tale,” Taeil says, and it hits him that they’re in the middle of the field, Taeyong’s hands around his hips, as if they’re about to go into a slow dance yet again. He has a hunch as to where this is going, but this time, he wants to make sure. “W-Why’d you bring me here?”

Even in the dim lights, Taeil wants nothing more than to lose himself in how Taeyong is looking at him so intensely. His grip on Taeil’s hips tightens and he takes a step forward so that their faces are close. “Because I wanna tell you something,” he says, his low voice sending shivers down Taeil’s spine.

“Tell me what …?”

“That I’m kinda in love with you, and I wanna kiss you right now.”

Taeil opens his mouth to answer, but no words come out. He had wished, hoped for this moment to happen, but now that it just happened, his brain had just shut down and refused to cooperate. Panic is starting to cross in Taeyong’s face, and Taeil has to say something, or else his silence might be misinterpreted. He ends up chuckling and wrapping his arms around Taeyong’s neck, the younger one finally relaxing.

“I’m taking that reaction as a yes?” Taeyong asks eagerly.

Taeil nods, his face red, and his grin too wide. Their chests are brushing against each other, and he can feel his heart beating against Taeyong’s. This isn’t a joke. This is actually happening.

“Can I …” Taeyong gulps. “Can I kiss you, hyung?”

Taeyong didn’t have to ask, but Taeil nods anyway. He closes his eyes as soon as Taeyong presses his lips on his, and he feels time has stopped.

Taeil wishes they both can stay like this for a long time.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

September arrives too fast, and Jaehyun and Taeyong start their fall semester in university. Somehow, they still manage to make time to hang out with Taeil, film videos, and help manage his performances in his (now permanent) spot in the music strip. Hansol, Yuta, and Ten are part of the group now, and Youngho joins in sometimes. The sun sets earlier and rises a little later, and Taeil has more time to go to more places that are typically close whenever it’s the summer.

Taeyong, he has come to discover, is the romantic one in the relationship. Taeil is all sorts of awkward, wondering how they’ll still be able to hang out like they used to without making it like they’re just friends. But Taeyong would squeeze his hand and kiss him in the most surprising times, and Taeil surprises him with take-out dinners in the dance studio and words he’s yet to add notes to. He thinks they’ll be fine.

His channel continues to get more and more views and subscribers, his spot in the music strip getting the most crowds every week. Some writer from a Web site interviews him, and Taeil is in ten levels of awe. People start asking him if he’s going to make an official debut, and he tries not to show his face falling. He hasn’t had the heart to tell people yet about his disease.

“Why don’t we do it? An actual concert, I mean?”

Jaehyun brings it up when they wrap up recording for the week. It’s nine in the evening, and Taeil’s room is scattered with notebooks, all Jaehyun and Taeyong’s school stuff. (They’ve made it a habit of making Taeil’s room their study room. Not that Taeil’s complaining.) Jaehyun is set to go home to pull an all-nighter, and Taeyong will stay for a bit until Taeil’s parents remind him that it’s almost midnight.

Taeyong looks up from his laptop and tucks his hand on his chin. “Tell me more.”

“Wait, what?” Taeil’s head is on Taeyong’s shoulder, but he sits up to look at the two of them in disbelief. “You’re actually considering this?”

“Why not?” Jaehyun grins. “You’re practically famous now. Everyone’s wondering why SM, YG, and JYP haven’t recruited you yet. A lot of people want an album. A lot of people want a concert because the music strip is starting to get too crowded. Why don’t we give them what we want?”

“That’s …” Taeil tries to find the words. How should he put it? He had always wanted to stand on top of a stage, in front of hundreds of people. He had always wondered what it’s like to be in a recording studio, his voice immortalized in CDs and radio waves. But …

Taeyong is quick to read his mind. “Your disease shouldn’t be a problem,” he tells him. “Concerts are usually at night—that’s when most people are free anyway. That, and recording studios are usually open all day and all night. We can make this happen, hyung.”

Now that Taeyong had mentioned it, there shouldn’t be a problem. But … “Don’t you two have school?” he says. “And what about the money?”

“I’ve organized lots of events in between school, hyung, I got this,” Jaehyun points out.

“And I have time in between school and dance club,” Taeyong adds.

“Money won’t be a problem, either,” Jaehyun continues. “We’ll ask for sponsors. And there are independent recording studios who can cut back on the recording fees.”

“Guys …” Taeil feels like crying, and he bites his bottom lip to fight back tears. He knows he hasn’t got much time, and here are these two, making time and effort to help him make his dreams happen. He doesn’t know where he’ll be without them. He takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay, let’s do it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun and Taeyong are quick to get to work. Jaehyun delves into his connections, the sponsors of their school events, and makes calls. Taeyong scouts possible recording studios. Taeil comes along if the meetings are at night so they can pitch the idea to possible sponsors and possible studios. Most of the time, Jaehyun and Taeyong do the negotiating, and Taeil honestly can’t see what he’ll do without them.

One meeting ends up a little later than usual. The owners of the recording company brought him and Taeyong to a bar for some drinks, and they chat about their artists’ careers kicking off with their first album. They start joking that Taeil is going to be the same. Taeil doubts it, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them. They request Taeil to come play in their studio sometime, and they set an appointment.

By the time they had parted ways, it’s already four thirty in the morning. The next bus is at five, but the ride will take an hour, which is not enough time for him to get home. Taeil mentally slaps himself on the forehead; he had forgotten about the time again. The next option for him is to find someplace near to stay, or to call his parents and ask for a ride home …

“You can stay at my place,” Taeyong volunteers before Taeil can fish out his phone. “It’s just half-an-hour away by bus. We can make it in time.”

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Taeil asks. He has been over Taeyong’s apartment a lot of times since they started going out, but staying over is something different.

“It’s fine. I think your parents would rather have you sleeping over instead of trying to make it at home when time is against us. But …” Taeyong must have sensed his uncertainty. “Um, but if you’re not comfortable about the idea, we can grab a cab?”

“No.” Taeil shakes his head and smiles at Taeyong reassuringly. He shouldn’t be making a big deal out of this. It’s Taeyong. “It’s fine. We’re pressed for time, anyway.”

Taeyong’s apartment is a fifteen-minute walk from their university, strategically sandwiched in between famous food establishments. As expected, everything is spic and span, and in its proper place. Taeil is self-conscious as he trudges through the apartment, careful not to make a mess. Meanwhile, Taeyong makes his way to the living room and closes the blackout curtains before making his way to his bedroom. When he returns, he asks, “Sleepy? I’ll get the bed ready.”

Taeil yawns before he can even reply. “Where will you sleep?”

“I have a spare mattress inside.” Taeyong smiles sheepishly. “I mean, my bed’s enough for the two of us …” Color drains from his face as soon as he realizes what he has said. “N-Not that I’m planning to! I mean, if you don’t want! I—”

Taeyong is so cute when he’s flustered. Taeil realizes that the younger one is probably as nervous about this as he is. He reaches for Taeyong’s hands; he’s going to go with his gut. No more second-guessing about this. “It’s fine with me,” he says, smiling nervously, but he’s brave enough to close the distance between them.

Sleep takes over Taeil as soon as he lies down, and he’s barely aware of Taeyong’s arms around his until he finally comes to hours later. He turns until he’s facing Taeyong, expression peaceful, his lips parting every so often as his chest rises and falls rhythmically. Taeil wants to take a picture of this moment, but Taeyong opens his eyes before he can even figure out where he placed his phone.

“Hey,” Taeil says groggily. “Slept well?”

“I should be asking you the same thing,” Taeyong asks. “Hungry?” He chuckles when Taeil’s stomach growls in response. “I’ll whip up something,” he says, pressing a kiss to Taeil’s forehead before getting up.

Taeil ends up sleeping some more until Taeyong wakes him up with a tray of samgyetang, delicious as always because Taeyong is such an amazing cook. (No offense to his parents.) He insists on washing the dishes this time because he should be a good guest, but it’s hard to get things done when your boyfriend is hugging you from behind, peppering your neck with kisses. It’s a miracle he didn’t manage to break anything.

It’s still the afternoon, and there’s still much time to kill before Taeil will be able to get out. They end up going on a movie marathon, the plot of which Taeil doesn’t remember because he feels too cozy lying next to Taeyong on the couch.

“Hey,” Taeyong whispers. Taeil doesn’t almost hear it because there was an explosion scene in the movie.

“Hmm?” Taeil shifts so that he meets Taeyong’s eyes. Taeyong smiles fondly, leaning forward for a kiss.

“Let’s go out of town.” Taeyong chuckles when Taeil’s eyes widen. “I’m serious. Just before we both get busy with the album and the concert.”

“Where to? And when?” Taeil remembers he’s never been out of town before; the farthest he had gone was Seoul. But he does want to go to somewhere different, and the thought of going somewhere with Taeyong thrills him.

Taeyong, unsurprisingly, already has a plan laid out. “We can go to Incheon. It’s an hour away from town by bus and train. It’ll be just for a day. We can walk around, take pictures, and did I mention we’ll eat a lot?”

“You had me at ‘eat a lot’,” Taeil chuckles. “I’ll have to ask my parents, but I’m game.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeil circles the thirteenth day of September on his calendar, after he gets permission from his parents. The days that follow are nonstop conversations on where to go and where to eat. Taeyong brings up the idea of filming a video in Incheon, and Taeil teases him that he’s charging talent fees from that day forward.

They meet in the train station at seven—Taeyong has his camera, Taeil has his guitar, and they both have an overnight bag just in case they forget about the time. Taeyong has their itinerary on their phone (no surprises there) meticulously detailed down from the directions and things they should do and spend on. Taeil is content to lean by the window, watching the scenery change to something unfamiliar yet thrilling.

Just like Seoul, Incheon is alive, even at nighttime. They arrive in Wolmi-Do Island just in time for the water dance in the fountain, and Taeil is too excited to care that he’s clapping along like a kid. They manage to sneak in video filming in the beach, with some passersby recognizing Taeil. He’s bombarded by requests for autographs and photo ops until some security guard rushes to their direction, and he and Taeyong make a run for it, laughing about it as soon as they stop to catch their breath.

They have dinner in Chinatown, where they stuff their faces full with dim sum and noodles. They talk about everything and nothing. They stroll silently through the town, hand in hand, and Taeil has never felt this normal yet euphoric in his life.

“Having fun?” Taeyong asks, when they leave the bright lights of Chinatown and to a dimmer area towards a nearby temple.

“I am.” Taeil grins. “I’m gonna be sad when this is all over.”

“We’ll have more chances. There are lots of places outside Seoul that we can visit for a day. And besides, we can already start planning for Christmas.”

 _More chances._ Three months ago, Taeil had wished that he would make the most of the year. He had no idea that part of the world would open up in those three months. He is doing what he loves the most, he has met new friends, he has been to new places, he has fallen in love.

He thinks of the upcoming months, of the future. It’s predetermined, but he does not know when that door will knock. Yet, the future he wants to see is getting lost in a different town, performing onstage and in the recording studio, arguing with Ten what movie they should see, getting lost in Taeyong’s embrace.

“You okay?”

He snaps back to his senses when they reach the temple altar. Taeyong has reached for his hand, their fingers intertwining. Taeil glances at the deity in front of them, a representation of some divine being that he had stopped believing in. He’s overcome with a heavy sensation in his chest, and he tries to suppress it. They’re supposed to be having fun; he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, but sometimes he can’t help it.

“Why me?”

Taeyong blinks at him, but he doesn’t respond.

“I always ask that question when I first got the disease,” Taeil continues. “I was a really good kid. I got good grades. My parents can ask me to do chores, and I won’t complain. I always go to bed on time. I was never sick. What kind of sick joke does the universe have on me? Did I lose some divine lottery or something?”

Taeyong doesn’t respond, his expression blank as he looks at the statue of the deity in the altar. Taeil wishes the younger one has the answers, but that would be unfair for him.

“I’m sorry.” Taeil shakes his head, wiping his eyes with his sleeves. “That was a lot of emotional unloading.”

“Don’t be, hyung,” Taeyong says, squeezing his hand. “I wish I could make you feel better.”

“You already have. You’ve done too much.” Taeil sniffs. “I’ve had the most fun time ever since I met you, and I don’t know why you still stay with me.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m an idiot and I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Taeyong laughs when Taeil sniffs at him indignantly, and he pulls the older one close. “I’ll wake up and night and sleep in the morning for you, hyung. Remember that.”

“You _are_ an idiot,” Taeil mutters as he buries his face in Taeyong’s chest. It didn’t answer his life-long questions, but he feels a little better.

They stay like that for a little while longer, but soon the realization hits them that they still have a couple of destinations to make before they call it a day. Taeil wishes that moment would never end, but there are more chances to take and more moments like this in the future.

Till then, Taeil can’t wait.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They head to their last destination—the central park. At midnight, there are still people strolling, among friends or significant others. Taeil is content to sit there, relax their exhausted feet, Taeyong’s head on his shoulders.

“Hyung,” Taeyong mutters after a long stretch of silence. “I’m thirsty. I’m gonna get something to drink.”

“Where?” Taeil asks, as he looks around the park.

“There’s a vending machine somewhere near the entrance,” Taeyong says as he points to the path where they had come from a while ago. “Do you want me to get you something?”

“Banana milk is fine.”

“Okay.” Taeyong grins as he stands up and stretches his arms. “I’ll be back. Don’t miss me too much.”

“Too late.” Taeil can’t resist grinning like an idiot as Taeyong waves at him before heading out. He leans comfortably against the bench and looks at the night sky, the moon only half visible. Time is ticking slowly, just how he likes it—he doesn’t want to go home just yet.

He slightly jumps when he hears a thump on the ground. When he looks, his bag had fallen from the bench. Sighing, he bends and reaches for the bag, only to lose his balance and fall off the ground. He chuckles at himself, chiding himself for being clumsy, before picking up the bag and tossing it back on the bench.

It’s when he tries to get up when he realizes that something is wrong.

“Hyung?”

 _No._ Taeil looks over his shoulder and finds Taeyong staring at him, a can of soda in one hand and banana milk in the other.

“Hyung, are you okay?” Taeyong asks, a frown of concern crossing his face.

He can’t hide this from Taeyong. “Taeyong ...” he says, his voice shaking. “I have to go to the hospital.”

Taeyong’s eyes widen, and he drops the drinks in his hand and rushes towards Taeil’s side. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Taeil lets out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, his vision starting to blur. He rubs his left leg over and over, even though he knows it’s futile. “My left leg ...” he says. “I can’t move it.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cab ride to the hospital is grueling. Taeil, reluctantly, had to call his parents and then the hospital, who promised to get a wheelchair ready. He texts Jaehyun but reassures him that he doesn’t have to drop by tonight—it’s past two in the morning, after all. When he’s done contacting everyone, he looks at Taeyong, who had his hand on Taeil’s thigh throughout the ride. He’s biting into his bottom lip, as if trying not to panic, but the expression itself is enough to break Taeil’s heart.

“You’re gonna be fine, right?” Taeyong asks with a trembling voice. “There must be a reasonable explanation for this.”

Taeil doesn’t have the heart to tell him that this was a long time coming. He doesn’t want to believe it’s the case, either. It must be some isolated incident, one the doctor has a cure for …

His parents are already in the hospital when they arrive, wheelchair ready. Taeyong is the first to get out after paying the fare, helping Taeil to the wheelchair. The nurses then announce that they’ll take it from there—he’s to undergo X-rays, MRIs, and CT scans before talking to the doctor.

Taeil looks at Taeyong, who’s fidgeting as the nurses speak. “Go home,” he tells him, then adds, when Taeyong looks like he’s about to protest, “I’ll be fine. Get some rest. I’ll call you when we have the results.”

Taeyong looks reluctant, but nods, leaving when Taeil is wheeled out of sight.

He already has an inkling of what’s happening to him. At ten years old, upon being diagnosed of the disease, his doctor already told him of the abnormalities that will follow for someone with XP—he’ll lose his hearing; he’ll have difficulty walking and moving; he’ll have difficulty talking and swallowing; he’ll have seizures. His parents often threaten him with this every time he would throw a tantrum and beg to go outside, _just once_. Eventually, he had conceded. He had taken everything the doctor prescribed, did everything to stay away from the sun, remained in good health …

A grueling two hours later, he and his family meet with the doctor. Their fears are confirmed—the neurological abnormalities are starting to show.

Taeil had long accepted that this is going to happen, but … “Even if I took care of myself, this will still happen, right?” he speaks up with a trembling voice. “All those years of staying away from the sun, all those medications … I’m still gonna die in the end?”

“Everyone dies in the end,” the doctor tells him. “All we’re doing is prolonging your life so that you can live it the way you want to.”

But Taeil’s life only began when he turned nineteen, the moment he stepped out into the nighttime, summer air. He still wants to do many things—he still has a concert, an album to record, more places to see with Taeyong, more things to do with Jaehyun and his newfound friends.

He’s admitted to the hospital overnight, his parents back with the doctor so they can discuss what they can do moving forward. Taeil thanks the nurse who helps him to his bed and shakes his head when asked if he wants anything to eat. As the doors close, Taeil’s releases a loud, anguished sound he had kept in for the past few hours, his body racking in sobs as he mourns for a part of his life that had ended as quickly as it came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun and Taeyong drop by that evening, just as his parents are working on his discharge documents. There are dark circles under Taeyong’s eyes, his eyes bloodshot. Jaehyun looks less panicked, but nevertheless worried. Taeil’s heart stings; he hates to see them like this. “I’m fine, you guys,” he says, forcing a smile.

“Your mother told us what the doctor said,” Taeyong says. He sits on the nearby chair and grips on the edge of Taeil’s bed. “Is it true, hyung?” When Taeil nods, Taeyong lets out a deep breath, and puts his hands to his face. Jaehyun leans against the wall, blinking rapidly.

“Don’t overreact, idiots, I’m still alive,” Taeil chuckles. It’s strained, but he has to be strong for this. “I won’t be able to walk, but I’m still strong.”

“I wish I can do something,” Taeyong says, sniffing.

“You’ve already done more than enough. Both of you,” Taeil says. “This was a long time coming. I can prolong my life, but I won’t be able to cheat this.”

“What are you gonna do now, hyung?” Jaehyun asks.

Taeil had thought about it, from the moment he and Taeyong took the cab ride to the hospital until now. He’ll be wheelchair-bound, he won’t be able to hang out as often with his friends, he will probably get lots of questions if he shows up in the Seoul music strip in a wheelchair. He’ll probably have to cancel that concert Jaehyun and Taeyong have painstakingly organized. Not to mention that album recording, considering he still hasn’t lost his voice by that time …

He stares up the ceiling with a sigh. “I … don’t know yet.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He feels the change when his father helps him up the family car, Jaehyun boarding the newly bought wheelchair in the trunk. His father’s study is now fully converted to his room, a little smaller than his room upstairs, but at least he won’t have to go up and down the stairs. His belongings are still in boxes, which gives him time to kill as he continues to think what he’ll do from here on.

Jaehyun and Taeyong come over to help him fix his room. (Taeyong has decided to delay his return to his hometown for Chuseok so he can help, much to Taeil’s surprise.) The two do most of the moving around and organizing, while Taeil makes sure he knows which item goes where. The only difference is the bars installed near his bed so he can get up and get on his wheelchair even without anyone assisting him.

He had forgotten they’re scheduled to film a video until he checks his calendar. But an idea pops in his head. “I want to film a message to everyone,” he tells Jaehyun and Taeyong as soon as they’ve finished. “I want to tell them about my disease.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen, and he and Taeyong look at each other from their seat in the dining table. “Are you sure, hyung?”

Taeil nods. “And I want to continue singing and playing the guitar, as long as I still have my voice,” he adds. “And I know I’m asking too much of you, but I want that concert to happen. And that album recording. As soon as possible, because I don’t know when—“ He pauses from there. He doesn’t want to think about it. All he wants to do is to move forward, make the most of what he can do right now.

Taeyong smiles at him. “Got it,” he says. “Let’s do it tomorrow. In the meantime, you go plan your big speech.”

“And too late to back out from the concert now,” Jaehyun says with a chuckle. “Taeyong and I are already halfway done with the planning.”

Taeil stays up all night, coming up with what he’s going to say in the video. He wants to tell the truth, yet he doesn’t want to make it look like he’s a victim of fate. He’s anything but. If there’s anything he learned from the past few days, he is not going to give up because he won’t be able to walk anymore. Eventually, he finds the right words and starts writing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 _Hi, everyone! Taeil here!_

 _I wasn’t able to update this channel as usual for the past two weeks, and I haven’t shown up in my usual place either. Something has come up, and I would like all of you to know what it is._

 _When I was ten years old, I was diagnosed with xeroderma pigmentosum. It’s a rare disease in which my body doesn’t have enough ability to repair damage caused by UV lights, especially the sun’s. This means that I’m not allowed to go out whenever the sun is up. That will explain why you guys only see me at night._

 _This disease has no cure. Very few people with XP survive past the age of twenty. It’s been three months since I turned nineteen, and I probably haven’t got much time. Just recently, I lost my ability to walk, and the doctors assume that it will get worse from now on—soon, I won’t be able to move my entire body, and I won’t be able to hear and talk._

 _When I turned nineteen this year, I promised myself I would make the year count. My amazing friends convinced me to run this channel so I can further share what I’m capable of. And now, I want to do everything I have dreamed of doing before the worst happens—my best friend and my boyfriend are doing all they can to organize a concert and album recording, and I couldn’t be any more grateful for their support._

 _I’ll continue recording videos, and I hope I’ll be okay to visit the music strip every now and then. I’ll never give up doing what I love, and despite everything that has happened and will continue to happen, I’ll hope you’ll continue supporting me._

 _But for now, I want to thank each and every one of you. For everything._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hansol, Ten, and Yuta barge in his room the next day, Taeyong panting in the doorway after what seemed like a wild chase. “Why didn’t you tell us?!” Ten shrieks, hands on Taeil’s shoulders.

Taeil blinks, his throat dry. Hansol, Ten, and Yuta have been his friends as long as Taeyong’s, and he never told them about the disease. Is it because the three of them didn’t raise any suspicions? Or the fact that he never got into close calls around them, compared to Taeyong? Either way, no excuse seems to be reasonable. “I’m sorry,” he says, glancing at Ten, then at Hansol and Yuta.

Ten sighs as he relaxes his grip on Taeil. “We’re not mad,” he says. “It’s just …”

“We wish we knew,” Hansol finishes for Ten. “We could have been there for you, aside from this guy and Jaehyun, of course,” he adds, glancing at Taeyong.

“We know.” Yuta takes a step forward, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Which is why, from this day forward, we are at your disposal. Anything you want to do, we’ll help.”

Taeil bites his bottom lip to prevent himself from crying; it doesn’t work this time. “Thanks, guys.” In a way, he’s also relieved. He had been relying too much on Jaehyun and Taeyong, but now, he knows he doesn’t have to take this all on him and a few people.

He’ll be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jaehyun barges into his room a couple of days later, exploding with news. “I think we have enough sponsors for the concert,” he announces, plopping on the edge of Taeil’s bed. “I received calls from some of the sponsors who were 50-50 on the idea, but they said yes a while ago!”

“That’s … great!” Taeil exclaims, unable to believe it himself.

“And get this ...” Jaehyun scrolls through his phone and shows him a message. “One of my classmates is a huge fan of yours, and she says some fans have pitched in to help. We won’t have problems with volunteers or anything.”

“Wow ...” Taeil’s head starts spinning. He had expected some well wishes and messages of good luck, but he had never expected support of this extent. Not that he’s complaining. He’s beyond happy that his dreams are slowly starting to become a reality.

“Now ...” Jaehyun opens his organizing app. “Now that we’re set, we just need to set a date. I was thinking it should be on a Saturday evening, because most people are available on that day.”

Taeil looks at his calendar. “Would it be a stretch if we have it at the end of the month?” he asks. It’s probably asking for too much, but something tells him he shouldn’t hold it later than that.

As expected, Jaehyun stares at him for a good second before checking the app on his phone. “Well ...” he begins. “It _will_ be a stretch, but if that’s what you want ...” He looks up and smiles. “Let’s make it happen. I think we have enough manpower, anyway.”

“Thanks, Jaehyun. I’m glad you’re my best friend.”

Jaehyun seems to have been taken aback, but he pats Taeil on the shoulder. “I’m glad, too, hyung.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Taeyong brings good news the next day—they have a recording studio. It’s one of the early studios they met up with, who are willing to waive all fees for him, for a mini album. The offer is too generous in Taeil’s opinion, but he’s grateful nonetheless.

The studio requests for the sheet music and the track list. He spends the whole night picking which songs would work, and whether they’ll go first, in the middle, or in the last part of the album. It’s not as easy as he expected it to be, but he manages to fill up all six songs. When he submits the sheet music and the track list (not to mention some photos Taeyong took before for the album jacket), they have a date—five days before the concert.

“You sure you’re okay with the schedule?” Jaehyun asks as they head to the studio. It’s Jaehyun who takes him on the first day, borrowing his family’s car.

Taeil nods. “I’ll be fine,” he says. In between practices with the band for the concert, he doesn’t feel tired at all, strangely enough. “I’ve never been this busy in my life, and I’m glad for it.”

He’s introduced to the crew and the studio band, and they start recording a few demos so that Taeil can decide how he’d like the songs to sound on record. It’s strange to hear musical accompaniment—except for the piano, since he’s used to Jaehyun accompanying him—but the output is just how he imagined it to be. When they make an agreement with the staff, they arrange for an official recording the next day.

“Is Taeyong even aware of Track 6?” Jaehyun asks as soon as he finishes helping Taeil up the car, on their way back home.

“He isn’t.” Taeil grins sheepishly. Track 6 was a new song he had written, as soon as he had gotten home remembering how nice it felt to have Taeyong’s arms around him when he woke up that day. The words and melodies spill to him like a waterfall when his desk was in reach. He had demo-ed it to Jaehyun the next day, who was utterly impressed, calling it his best work yet.

Yet, the song had never been performed. Taeil thought a video performance is too informal, and a performance in the music strip is too public. At least, he would like Taeyong to hear it first before performing, but he didn’t get a chance to. Perhaps, until tomorrow, at least.

He’s planning to make it the final song of his concert, too, after all.

The day of the recording goes with only minor hitches, some technical difficulties and some changes made in between recordings. On the other side, Taeyong is leaning comfortably against his seat, smiling reassuringly at him every now and then. Taeil smiles back, though he’s starting to get more nervous as they finish recording one song after another.

He asks for a break when they finish recording the fifth song, and he catches Taeyong’s forehead scrunch as he flips to the next music sheet. Taeil chuckles softly, and he takes a deep breath as he wheels himself back to the other side of the control room. “You okay?” he asks.

Taeyong looks at him in confusion, holding up the music sheet in question. “When did you write this?” he asks. “I’ve never heard this song before.”

“That’s new,” Taeil replies. “I kinda … wrote it after I got home from your place.”

Taeyong’s jaw drops for a good two seconds before he makes a sound that Taeil’s assuming is from surprise. Suddenly, he’s laughing and his cheeks turn red as he glances at the lyrics. “I ...” he says, looking at Taeil again. “Do you really mean all this?”

Taeil wheels himself closer to Taeyong until their faces are close; it’s kind of cute how Taeyong is the flustered one now. “I meant every word of it,” he whispers before leaning in.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finally, the day of the concert has arrived. Taeil finds himself exhausted as he climbs into the family car and drives to the venue—the town park, where it all started. Yet, when he peers outside the window to their designated parking area, his eyes widen at the number of people already in the venue. It’s more than he had imagined.

The crowds cheer when they spot him being wheeled backstage. Taeil feels self-conscious at being seen being helped by Hansol and Yuta from the car to his wheelchair, but he manages a small wave. He barely has time to greet the volunteers because Yuta wheels him to his booth, where Ten and a couple of volunteers help him get ready.

Someone from outside yells “Ten minutes!”, and Taeil picks up his guitar, strumming the chords. He has the set list and the notes and lyrics memorized. All he has to do is to face the crowd and sing—just like he had done for the past few months, only in front of a bigger audience.

“Can I come in?”

Taeil looks over his shoulder and brightens up when Jaehyun approaches him. He has a walkie-talkie on one hand and a clipboard on the other. He has small circles under his eyes, but he’s smiling as he bends down to give Taeil a hug. “This is it, hyung,” he says, voice strained.

“I know.” Taeil wishes he isn’t such a crybaby, because he doesn’t want to face the audience with a tear-stricken face. Jaehyun is blinking rapidly when they pull away, so he’s relieved he’s not the only emotional one. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you, hyung.” Jaehyun grins. “You deserve it. You’ve been so nice to me ever since we became friends.”

He remembers a twelve-year-old Jaehyun knocking into their door with his family for dinner time. The thirteen-year-old Taeil, after spending three years of being stuck at home with no kid almost his age to interact with, is taken by Jaehyun’s bright smile and shy “How do you do?” He had no idea that said shy greetings would turn into something like this six years later. All the worries that he’s always the one receiving in their friendship have been pushed away.

“Well.” Jaehyun stands up, gingerly rubbing the edge of his eyes. “We have a few more minutes before showtime. You relax, okay? I’ll have Ten call you when we’re ready.”

Taeil watches Taeyong enter the booth just as Jaehyun leaves. The two exchange smiles and nods before Jaehyun goes on ahead. Taeyong looks like he hadn’t had any decent sleep either, but brightens up when he reaches for both of Taeil’s hands. “Ready to break a leg?” He pauses, color draining from his face. “I meant that as a figure of speech, I didn’t mean that you should literally break—“

“I know, I got it.” Taeil laughs, his thumb running circles on top of Taeyong’s hand. “I’m happy. About everything.”

“I’m happy you’re happy, hyung.” Taeyong smiles. “You’ll do great out there, all right?”

“You’ll be watching, right? Especially at the end. I’ve saved the finale song for you.” Taeil remembers looking into Taeyong’s eyes when he sang Track 6— _Because of You_ —during the recording. He loves the way Taeyong’s eyes had softened, his lips turning up to a gentle smile. It makes his stomach do somersaults, just like the first time he had realized he was in love with Taeyong. He wants to see that again, wants to look at where Taeyong is looking from backstage and see that expression again.

“Of course, I will.” Taeyong kneels down but doesn’t let go of their hands. “And just like what you do me, you’ll go out there to the crowd and shine as bright as the sun.”

Suddenly, Ten’s head pokes from outside the booth. “Hyung, we’re ready for you!” he announces, before disappearing.

Taeyong leans forward for a quick kiss (“For good luck,” he says when he pulls away) before taking the handles of Taeil’s wheelchair and wheeling him to where he’s supposed to enter. Taeil slowly draws open part of the curtain, just to get a peek. The crowd seems to have multiplied, and he can see volunteers trying their best to keep the crowd together. Emotion swells in his chest, and he thinks he has a lot of people to thank just before he ends the night. But he’ll think about it later. Right now, the concert has to begin.

He hears Jaehyun calling his name from the outside, and the crowd’s deafening cheers. He feels Taeyong’s hand patting his as he asks, “You ready?”

“I am.” Taeil takes a deep breath, allowing Taeyong to let go, so he can wheel past the curtains and to front and center.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 **Epilogue**

“Taeil, Taeyong is here.”

Taeil opens his eyes just in time to see Taeyong step in the room, a goofy smile on his face. “Hey,” he greets, sitting on the nearby chair. “How are you?”

Taeil manages a smile. “Bored,” he replies. It’s difficult to pronounce the words now, and he can only talk slowly. The doctors said it will only be a matter of time before he won’t be able to talk, so he’s making the most of it.

Taeyong, however, patiently waits for him to finish, leans in closer so he can fully understand what Taeil is trying to say. He chuckles as he fishes out a magazine from his bag. “I have some good news for you,” he announces. “Your album made it to the Top 10 of the mainstream charts.” He beams as he flips through the pages until he founds what he’s looking for; Taeil sees a thumbnail of his album cover.

“That’s … great …” Taeil wants to reach for the magazine himself so he can get a closer look, but his entire body isn’t going to respond anymore; it had been unresponsive since last month.

“A major recording company wants to pick up your album for major distribution. We’ve already discussed that beforehand, so I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Taeyong continues. “You’re gonna be even more famous now, hyung.”

“Then … the … fans … will … visit … me … here … and … get … surprised ...” Taeil laughs. He already had some people dropping by, only to get scared of his state, but most of them aren’t so cruel, at least if Taeil’s hospital room is a testament to it—gifts, artwork, and get-well-soon cards scattered all over.

Speaking of gifts … “Taeyong ...” he says, using his lips to gesture where he wants Taeyong to look.

Taeyong looks to the direction of the end desk, to the vase of sunflowers on it. He makes a sound of surprise. “This is new,” he remarks. “Who brought it? It’s beautiful.”

It’s from a nine-year-old fan in the hospital. She and her mother dropped by his room with that vase, the girl explaining that if he can’t see the sun, then he hopes this will be his sun. Taeil wants to tell that to Taeyong, but he suddenly finds himself too exhausted from talking. “Just … like … the … sun ...” he says instead.

“It does.” Taeyong reaches for his hand. Taeil can’t feel its warmth anymore, but he remembers the feeling. “It’s almost sunrise. It’s time for me to go.”

“Okay.” Taeil feels drowsiness taking over again; strange, because he felt like he had slept for a long time already. Or maybe that’s his body getting used to being static, to seeing only the four walls of his room with nothing to do but think. “Take … care ...”

“You, too. I’ll drop by again tonight.” Taeyong presses a kiss to his forehead before waving and taking off, closing the door behind him.

Taeil turns his gaze back at the sunflowers; he likes to believe that they really are as bright as the sun. He used to remember what sunshine felt like on his shoulders before he had this disease, warm and safe. But now, he no longer associated warmth and safety to stars but to friends, family, fans, people who listen to his music, and Taeyong. As bright as the sun, all of them.

The sunflowers are the last thing he sees when he closes his eyes and drifts off to a peaceful sleep.

 

 

 

 

-End-

**Author's Note:**

> \- This fic idea started almost a year ago, but I only got to writing this around June last year, then revisions, revisions, revisions. I’m glad it ended up the way I wanted to, and it’s finally posted!  
> \- The fic is inspired by the movie _Taiyou no Uta/Midnight Sun_ starring YUI and Tsukamoto Takashi.  
>  \- I will leave the ending of the fic up to you guys. :-)  
> \- The title of the fic is from the John Denver song of the same title.  
> \- Many thanks to @caramiro for being my forever beta! #loveyoubud


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